


Sideswiped

by RedLeaderfic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Denial, Kayfabe, M/M, Post-Break Up, Seth Has Feelings, Seth Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth just wants his phone to stop ringing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sideswiped

**Author's Note:**

> Set ~sometime~ between Money In The Bank and Battleground

His phone was _still ringing_.

Seth rolled over and pressed the pillow over his head, letting the stupid thing go to voice mail. _Again._ This was time number three and Seth really hoped that would be the charm.

When instead it just started right back up Seth wondered if he'd put enough time with the Authority yet for him to chuck the phone against the wall and have them pick up the tab for a new one.

 _Probably not_. Seth fumbled the phone off the nightstand, saw Dean's name blinking on the screen and almost threw it against the wall anyway. He had to content himself with hitting ignore, throwing the phone in a drawer and curling back under the blankets The last thing he needed at 2AM before a show was Dean Ambrose drunk dialing him to trash talk or brag about screwing up his cash in or whatever else was wrong with Dean today.

The phone started up again. Seth lasted one ring before he almost pulled the drawer out of the nightstand grabbing for it. “What do you _want_?”

“Why the fuck are you always so hard to wake up?”

Seth clenched his jaw tight and counted to ten. “I am hanging up right now.”

“Just shut up for a second, okay?”

Seth did, but not because Dean had asked - Dean didn't sound drunk but his voice was shaking. Dean Ambrose was a very hard guy to shake. “The hell's wrong with you?”

“Got clipped by a semi and went off the road.” He said it so casually it took a second for Seth to process the words. “Rental's totaled. Cops just left but the tow said it might take three hours to get out here. I need a pick up.”

“I...wait, are by yourself? Where's Reigns?”

“He had a signing or something with Cena and rode in early with him.”

“So why are you bothering _me_? Call him. Hell, call one of the road agents, they'll send a car. This is the shit they're paid to do anyway.”

“My phone's busted, I can't get to the contacts. You and Roman are the the only numbers I know off the top of my head. Roman's got his kid with him, I don't wanna wake them up if I don't have to.”

Seth had forgotten Roman had dragged the brat along. Still, he didn't know what the hell Dean was expecting from him. “Call a cab.”

“I can't find my wallet. My shit's all over the hillside right now, it's probably in the creek the way the night's going.”

Seth was about to say _he'd_ call an agent and send one of them out there before realizing no, he couldn't – not without Orton and Hunter catching wind of it and he was still way too new with the Authority for that. Anyone else there wouldn't be a problem but getting up in the middle of the night to send a rescue party out for _Dean Ambrose_ , that was too much. He'd might as well just show up at Kane's door and ask to be chokeslammed just to get it all over with. “You rant and rave like a nutjob all these weeks about how you're going to kill me and now seriously expect me to help.”

“Yeah.”

“You are crazier than even I gave you credit for.”

“Probably.”

Seth told himself again he shouldn't just throw the phone against a wall. “Give me any reason to not hang up. Wait, no, not to laugh at you and hang up.”

He could almost hear Dean shrug. “'Cause we were brothers once.”

“We were _never_ brothers.”

That drew blood. That always drew blood, and the breath Dean let out before he spoke again confirmed it. “Are you comin' to get me or not?”

Every inch of Seth wanted to tell Dean to fuck off and just go back to sleep. It would serve Ambrose right _and_ would score points with the boss. A+ plan for Seth Rollins all around.

Seth sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the rain just starting to drum against the window, the rain and Dean's breathing and that little break he'd heard buried deep in Dean's Harley Race rasp.

“Seth?”

“Where are you?”

***

Seth stepped out at the curve Dean had described; the rain was still hammering down hard and cold and Seth wished he'd thought to grab a jacket. No surprise Dean had gotten into trouble on this stretch of highway, though; the curve was sharp and the road was shit, all potholes at the worst possible places. “Tax dollars at work,” he murmured to himself, scanning down the embankment for Dean.

Seth finally spotted him sitting on his suitcase next to the driver's side door, shoulders hunched against the downpour and absolutely soaked. In the bad light it took a few more steps to get a really good look at the car and the sight all but froze Seth to the muddy hillside. Apparently “clipped” in Ambrose-ese actually meant “left side entirely crunched in.” The hazard lights were dead on that side and the tires blown out; Seth could see bare patches ripped out of the hill from the car skidding down, a lone piece of metal sticking straight up in one spot that Seth realized after a second must have come from the partially sheared off roof. Even the front was accordianed, the windshield shattered into a mass of spiderweb cracks.

Dean chose that moment to look up, waving to Seth like they were meeting at a tailgate party. Seth shook off the spellbound shock of the wreck and started picking his way down the hill, the mud sucking at his boots. Dean hadn't been kidding about his stuff being all over the hillside; Seth almost fell on his face tripping over one of Dean's ring boots and he could see more of his gear littered everywhere. He thought about how Dean had better hope he'd manage to stuff enough back into the bag he was sitting on to get through the show or the chewing out in a few hours was going to be legendary.

And of course Dean had to be his usual grateful self. “Took you long enough.”

Seth decided not to take the bait just this once. He was having a hard enough time reconciling Dean talking like nothing had happened when his car looked like a demolition derby chew toy. “Car flipped, huh?”

“Flipped, rolled, almost wound up in the water,” he said, pointing backward over his shoulder.

Seth could just see the creek now that Dean had pointed it out. “You find your wallet?” Dean just shook his head. “Some yokel's gonna have fun with your credit cards in the morning.”

“You wanna sit here in the rain all night or are we leaving?”

“Sure. Can you get up?” Seth was genuinely curious about that; he was grateful for the rain, every time he looked at the wreck he broke out in a sweat.

Dean seemed to take it as a challenge, wincing as he pushed himself up but managing to stand without too much swaying. Seth kept one eye on Dean as they trudged back up the hill; he was moving a little stiff but wasn't limping and he kept an okay grip on his bag. Seth remember that old saying about God looking out for children and fools.

He helped Dean throw the bag into the trunk of his own rental and circled back back toward the driver's side. He'd just clicked the door's open when he noticed Dean staring at the car like it smelled bad. “Got a problem?”

“Is this a Mercedes?”

Seth took a step back. “Looks like.”

“They rented you a _Mercedes_?”

Seth shrugged. “Hey, the Authority doesn't do subcompacts. Get in. And try not to get mud all over the interior.” He started the car as Dean eased himself in and fumbled with the seatbelt for a few seconds before giving up. “You...okay?” Seth said, trying to watch the road and Dean at the same time. “You should probably wake up one of the trainers and let them....”

“I'm fine. Drive.”

Dean wasn't fine. With the dome lights punched on Seth could see bruises all along the side of his face that were ugly now and would be an even uglier purple in a few hours. In fact Seth guessed Dean was mostly bruise from the way he moved; his left arm was just as jacked as his face and all scratched up besides. Seth sent up some thanks that the Authority had their own dressing room so he wouldn't have to hear the trainers hit the roof when Dean showed up in this shape come bell time. “What happened to the truck? You should've hit him up for a ride, like we did in Tupelo that one time.”

“Guy would've had to stop for that.”

Seth shifted in his seat. “You catch the plate at least?”

“Kinda busy rolling down a hillside.”

And for a second Seth could _see_ that like it was a movie, Dean's crunched up car ripping itself up down that incline.

He clenched his jaw and shoved that far away. The cold sweat was back over his arms and Seth didn't know why his heart was pounding like this, like he'd just been in the ring for an hour. Damn sure knew he didn't like it, though. “The hell were you doing riding by yourself anyway? The agents get pissy when we do that.”

Dean had his eyes closed, slouching against the seat like he was going to do his damnedest to nap the whole way back. “'Cause _I'm_ the one who made it so I don't have anyone to ride with.”

“Not my fault you don't have friends, Ambrose.”

Dean had the kind of voice you could always make out, no matter how softly he spoke. “Yeah it is.”

Seth locked his eyes on the road ahead and told himself he'd gone through too much trouble to just kick Dean out of the car now. It helped that Dean looked so pitiful; after a few minutes of listening to his teeth chatter Seth turned up both the heat and the radio and caught Dean thanking him with a narrow-eyed glare, like he was determined to take it as an insult. Seth decided to help that along by turning the radio up more. Just to be nice.

The shivering _was_ bad, though. Seth told himself Dean had brought it on himself by sitting in the rain like an idiot – not like he wasn't drenched and shivering too from coming out to fetch him – but Dean's was worse and Seth tried to keep the word shock from buzzing around in his head. Seth almost pushed him again to wake up the trainers the second he got to the hotel but knew Dean would just tell him to fuck off and then Seth really would have to kick him out of his car. Dean was grown-ass adult; if he wanted to be stupid enough to not get checked out and croak in his sleep, well, that wasn't Seth's problem anymore.

The thought sank in Seth's gut like an anchor. That very thing happened too often in their business to joke about, even just in his own head and the image it brought up sent his heart back hammering against his breastbone. He turned up the music as loud as he could stand and stepped hard on the gas.

***

Seth pulled into the first motel that looked like it took cash and didn't ask questions. “You. Up,” he said, shoving Dean awake. “Out of my car.”

Dean's eyes blinked open, his whole body leaning against the door as he looked out the window. “Where the fuck are we?”

Seth popped the trunk and jumped out of the car. “You think I'm gonna be seen dragging you back to the hotel this time of night you're _nuts_. I _like_ having a job.” He grabbed Dean by one arm and dragged him out of the passenger seat, shoving Dean's bag into his arms the second he was sure he'd keep his balance. “Me stay out all night, especially in this weather? No one would think twice about that. I get seen anywhere near the same car as you I'll have Orton sniffing around trying to figure out if I jumped sides again.”

“Wow, the Authority thinks you're untrustworthy, can't imagine why.”

Seth gritted his teeth and marched Dean toward the motel door and, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.

Dean sprawled out on the beat up lobby couch, not looking at Seth as he walked up to book what passed for rooms in this trash heap. There was only one vacant – because of _course_ there was only one – but at least it was a double and Seth was so done with all of it he didn't even try to haggle.

Once they got to the room Dean flopped face down on the bed, sacking out before even taking off his boots. Seth stretched out on the opposite bed, fatigue wrapping around him so tight he couldn't force himself into a hot shower to chase the chill out of his bones. Best he could manage was stripping off his shirt and pants, throw the comforter over his head and try to forget he'd ever been stupid enough to answer his phone.

About two hours later he heard Dean startle awake – guy was a bad sleeper on a good day and worse when he was wired up like tonight (of course, Seth hadn't managed to sleep at all so Dean had one up on him.) He listened to Dean toss and turn for a few seconds, then heard him let out a loud, frustrated breath. “Seth.”

Seth answered with a grunt that said _shut up and leave me alone_ the best he could manage. 

When Dean spoke again it was softly enough that words just barely carried across the room. “C'mere.”

 _That_ got Seth's eyes open. He didn't answer, just watched Dean stare at the ceiling.

It was like Dean couldn't look at him. “Just....” He rubbed both hands over his face. “Just forget all this bullshit for five seconds and c'mere.”

Seth heard that little shake in Dean's voice again, the same one that had kept him from hanging up the phone.

It was almost like when he'd jumped off the Titantron. Seth was a sharp guy but somehow he'd found himself standing up there anyway, looking down what felt like thousands of feet. He remembered the single, crystal clear moment where he'd realized what a stupid fucking thing he was doing.

When Dean looked over and finally met Seth's eyes, like just looking at Seth hurt as bad as the bruises down his face, that felt _exactly_ like the moment Seth knew he was going to jump anyway.

Dean pulled him down to the bed the second Seth got in reach, climbing on top of him like Seth was the only safe place on the the bed. Dean was a sloppy kisser but Seth had never cared; Dean kissed like his brain shut off whenever his lips touched Seth's skin, like a starving man stumbling over a feast. The first time they'd messed around and Seth had realized he'd had Dean literally panting for him he'd come without either of them getting out of their clothes.

That sure as hell wasn't the plan for tonight, though. Seth pulled Dean's shirt off him, hitting a tender spot that made Dean wince but gave Seth the opening to manuever him over so Seth straddled across his hips. The bruise from the seat belt was raw, a red and mottled purple line right across Dean's chest and tender enough that Dean squirmed when Seth just ran his thumb beneath it. So Seth did it again to torture him a little bit, grinning when Dean's breath caught as he cursed Seth out. 

“Wuss,” Seth countered, getting Dean the rest of the way out of his clothes. He knelt back between Dean's legs and just took in what a mess the guy was for a second; Dean's eyes hooded as Seth ran his fingertips down Dean's body, tracing each bruise and cataloging each tender spot.

“You're gonna use this against me at the show tonight,” Dean said, already breathing hard.

“How _pissed_ would you be if I held off and didn't?” 

Dean answered with a little shrug, like he couldn't bring himself to admit Seth was right. He closed his eyes as Seth kept working him over, that little tremble back in his hands. “This is fucked up.”

“Yeah, well. You're probably concussed, blame it on that if you want.”

“Man, if I'm not I should be.” He was back to not really looking at Seth. “That car went airborne and I thought I was done,” he whispered.

Seth felt the hair on his arms stand straight up. For a sick instant all Seth could see was Dean's car rolling the few extra feet and ending upside down in that creek.

He kissed Dean down into the bed, harder that was probably good for him. From the surprised little chuckle Dean let out it didn't seem like he minded; Seth was the finesse guy, always had been, and normally Dean was the one rushing things along. Not today. Seth needed to shut his brain off too.

Dean arched up beneath him as if to help with that, grinding against Seth and skating his hands over Seth's thighs and ass to pull him as close as possible. Seth sucked along the side of Dean's neck, counting on that bruise to blend in with the others. Dean's neck was one of his more sensitive spots and Seth knew exactly how to play him, how to drive him into cursing frustration. It was fun. Making Dean lose his cool was always fun whatever the reason.

Dean grabbed hold of Seth's hair, not pulling but just holding on and Seth had forgotten hard that always got him, especially with Dean's tongue practically down his throat. Seth ran through their options; he didn't have condoms or lube and doubted Dean did either and Seth was just kicking himself for not having the stuff on him. From now on he'd always have stuff on him. Have it on him in the ring if he could figure out way to swing it.

Finally Seth just reached between them and wrapped one hand around Dean's cock, laughing when just that was enough to snap Dean's head back against the mattress. All that time driving through boring flyover towns had given Seth _plenty_ of chances to learn how to play Dean Ambrose; it barely took seconds for him to get Dean writhing beneath him, gasping and his eyes going out of focus. He kept that tight grip on Seth's hair, keeping him close enough to Seth to feel Dean's breath hot right up against his lips. Seth felt that deep tremor run through Dean, the one that meant he was right on the edge and fighting to make it last as long as possible. “Come on, Ambrose,” Seth said into his ear. “Ya know you never outlast me.” Seth sucked on his earlobe and the moan Dean let out ran right through him. “C'mon. C'mon c'mon c'mon.” Finally Dean pressed his forehead against Seth and _let go_ , his breath stuttering out as he let Seth finish taking him apart. 

Seth hoped that day he finally got his hands on that world title it felt half as good as taking Dean Ambrose apart.

Dean went limp and boneless, letting Seth ride him while he rode out his aftershocks. Seth didn't feel like letting Dean get his breath back just yet, sinking down into a deep, wet kiss as he pushed himself against Dean's hip. He may have outlasted Dean but it had been real, real close; when the climax hit he saw white for a second and felt the rush go down his legs. It was almost enough to make Seth wish they could still do this every night.

Not that he'd admit that out loud. Once his head cleared Seth rolled over and pulled Dean on top of him - last thing Dean needed was two hundred pounds falling asleep draped over him, he was going to have a hard enough time moving come morning. The little room was still; for just a few minutes it was the night before Wrestlemania all over again, when they'd fallen asleep talking about how next year _they'd_ be the ones in the main event. 

Seth didn't think Dean should be taking it so personally that he'd really meant it.

“You regret it, don't you. Switching sides. Deep down somewhere you do.”

Seth sighed. _Right on cue._ “Nope.” Dean didn't react, Seth figured because he'd already known how Seth answer. He shifted Dean to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. “Forget my number and find someone new to ride with, Ambrose.”

Dean let out a little scoff into Seth's skin. “Been tryin' believe me.”

Seth listened as Dean's breathing went deep and slow and even. Dean only really slept well with someone in the bed with him and Seth couldn't pretend that hadn't been working in his favor over the past month.

It wasn't like he'd lied. Siding with the Authority had been the smart move, no question; he had a title shot in his pocket and his interests were the bosses interests. He was _money_.

And even if he did maybe regret that he had to trade falling asleep with Dean's hands tangled in his hair to be money, well. He could live with that.

***

Seth woke to the room empty and half the cash in his wallet replaced by a rough scrawled IOU in Dean's handwriting. Always the best way to kick off a morning.

He was actually in the process of blocking the asshole's number from his phone when another call came through, this one from Hunter summoning him to an Authority team meeting complete with a leering apology if he was _interrupting_ anything. (A good natured leering apology at least, so Seth was reasonably sure the bosses hadn't connected Seth sneaking out with Dean never showing up.) Dean didn't so much as glance his way backstage at the show but made sure the cameras all got a great view of his messed up face and cut a promo claiming Seth had jumped him, which Seth sure as hell wasn't going to deny. (Roman didn't buy it, though; Seth managed to overhear Dean come clean about cracking up the car to him but if he'd connected that with Seth showing up in last night's walk of shame clothes he didn't do more than give Seth a hard, sideways _look_.) 

He didn't notice who Dean left with, whether with Roman or if he'd hitched a ride with someone else. Didn't care, wasn't his problem.

It wasn't until he got back to the hotel that Seth realized he never had gotten around to blocking that number. Seth toyed with the phone for a few moments, then just set it down on the nightstand after double checking that the volume was turned all the way up. 

Just because Seth _could_ live with falling asleep alone didn't mean it hurt to leave some options open.


End file.
